survey

a whole row of empty seats,
footsteps on the stairs,

no landing light,
i just make out the sounds.

a scarf on the back of the chair,
bags propped by the table,

no lights yet on, no colour comes,
winter, and it is dusk.

a tiny tremble rose,
as i surveyed that empty row,
from under my skin
to my toes,

a tiny tremble rose
as i see the familiar clothes, and know;

some are coming back,
some had to go.

some are coming back,
some had to go.

survey

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

  • Artwork Comments 4

Artwork Comments

  • devotee1
  • uncleblack
  • Cynthia Lund Torroll
  • uncleblack
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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